


Ruffled Feathers

by shadowmaat



Series: Game of Thrones: Alderaan [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 00:30:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11862861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowmaat/pseuds/shadowmaat
Summary: Maul is obligated to dress for a masquerade and isn't happy about it. Bail is not helping at all.





	Ruffled Feathers

“You knew.” 

The voice growling at his shoulder sent a delicious shiver down Bail’s spine.

“You knew and you didn’t tell me.” 

Hot breath gusted against his neck as he adjusted a leather strap. If his fingers happened to stray and caress more skin than harness, well, it wasn’t as if there was anyone here to see.

“As a matter of fact I  _didn’t_  know until shortly before I told you. I think my mother knew I wouldn’t have agreed to it.” He looked up, trying vainly to keep his expression composed. “However, I must say that you make a rather spectacular blackbird.”

He stepped back to admire his handiwork, unable to suppress a grin as Maul growled again. Mazicia Organa’s tailors had outdone themselves this time. Elegant mechanical wings clung to Maul’s back in shimmering shades of black and a red that seemed dyed to match his skin. 

“Well? Give them a try.” Bail gestured.

With a huff, Maul activated the switch to extend his wings. Bail caught his breath, the humor of the situation eclipsed by the sheer beauty of the man before him. He looked more hawk than blackbird, wings poised as if he was ready to strike down at an unsuspecting target. A headdress wrapped around his horns, giving him a crown of ebony feathers. It was the pants, however, that had Bail wondering if his mother somehow suspected what was going on between them. Form-fitting black leather, pebbled like a bird’s legs that tucked into clawed boots. How long had she been planning this? And  _why?_

A voice in the back of his head whispered that as a member of the House of Organa Maul, too, might be under consideration for marriage arrangements, but he was quick to smother that thought. No. It was unthinkable.

“Well?” 

Bail blinked, wondering how long he’d been staring. Judging by the quirk of Maul’s lips, it had been long enough. He cleared his throat.

“You, ah, you look… good.” He busied himself by picking up the shirt that had been carefully cut to accommodate the wings. It had been done in layers of silk, shaped to mimic the look of feathers while still being fashionable.

Maul hummed, retracting the wings again as Bail snapped the pieces of the shirt in place. “And what about you? Or am I the only one set up to suffer this humiliation?”

“Don’t worry, my costume for the night will be every bit as, ah, interesting as your own.”

“So you say.”

Bail smiled, unable to resist any longer. “Don’t let it get your feathers ruffled,” he said, reaching out to stroke the feathers at Maul’s back. “You’ve gotten quite good at winging it.”

Molten gold eyes glared up at him. “We are going to talk about this tomorrow,” he rumbled.

“We could talk about it later tonight. I can help you get out of that contraption.” Bail leaned down for a kiss but got a face full of horns and feathers.

“ _Definitely_ tomorrow,” Maul said, and swooshed from the room.


End file.
